‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. " "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. Wood, joining the group, "it isn't Thames Darrell come to life again?" "It is—it is!" cried Winifred, rushing towards him, and flinging her arms round his neck,—"it is my dear—dear brother!" "Well, this is what I never expected to see," said the carpenter, wiping his eyes; "I hope I'm not dreaming! Thames, my dear boy, as soon as Winny has done with you, let me embrace you. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. It had been cut down before life was extinct, but a ball from one of the soldiers had pierced his heart. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff.
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